“I want to tell you the truth; that is the thing about this sort of picture,” sings Elizabeth Fischer in "Melancholique", one of the stand-out tracks on DarkBlueWorld’s Drip Audio debut. A collaboration between Fischer and Ron Samworth, both involved for the past twenty-odd years in a list of projects too long to enumerate (from Fischer's late lamented and much missed Animal Slaves to Samworth's Talking Pictures), this self-titled release is a collective success. Along with Skye Brooks (drums) and Pete Schmitt (bass), the best players on Vancouver's small but intense improvisational scene are gathered, including violinist Jesse Zubot, guitarist Tony Wilson, and the brilliant cellist Peggy Lee. But don't expect cerebral solos; this is an album concerned first and foremost with songwriting. Musical points of reference include (but are not restricted to), gypsy songs, Fado, murder ballads, Brecht, Quintette du Hot Club de France era jazz, tango, and a barely-tangible touch of Nino Rota. Additionally, the production owes a heavy debt to polyrhythmic rock. And that's not to mention a bookshelf's worth of literary references; Knut Hamsun and Kafka memorably share an onstage dance in “Dark Blue World," while a Faustian lover’s pact hovers in shadow over the inspired “Well Oh Well.”

And it all rocks with an alchemical magic. “Turn it Over” sketches out both the band's ambitions and its formidable abilities: beginning with languid middle-eastern half-tones while Fischer keens with a brittle hauteur (it takes some variety of chutzpah to open the final song of an album with the word "disappointed," but she's not one for pulling punches), it uncoils into high drama. Moving through a prog-y guitar break which sounds for all the world like Discipline-era King Crimson, it arrives at a point of intensity- a strange and wonderful surprise after the elegiac opening bars. Samworth's guitar rubs across the sound like a fistful of barbed wire, Skye Brook's percussion kicks up a storm, the vocals devolve into a wordless howl. Elsewhere there is the cracked almost-waltz of "Night Face" and the haunted-house tango of “Well Oh Well,” with its excellent muted trumpet solo by J. P. Carter. “Melancholique,” with its gorgeous major-key bridge, is not far removed from melodically sublime pop (albeit pop concerned with conveying a weight of experience- that “the world will break you eventually”).

With her cigarette-rough voice, Fischer invites comparison to Nico or Patti Smith, though her superior range and color indicate that the similarity has more to do with persona than sound. The slow burning anger in these songs is hardly apparent at first, but finally surfaces as defiance rather than cynicism. It is the sound of a damaged romantic who cannot reconcile herself with the random blows of fate administered by an unthinking world. "Things go wrong and no one's to blame," she sings, signing a sympathy card for the broken-hearted multitudes. It's as poignant as a regretful letter to an old lover, or a face glimpsed in the window of a passing train, never to be seen again. These are the forlorn regions where Dark Blue World will take you, and the voyage won’t be gentle; there is a deep sense of command within its drama. The emotional palette may be narrow, but it possesses an unquestionable depth. Set against the background of her bandmates' consummate musicianship, it seems that Fischer has found the perfect setting for her poetic devices.